


The Four Fs

by unviincible (broodingmischief)



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Banter, Flirting, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 19:58:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7120333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/broodingmischief/pseuds/unviincible
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The best time to proposition Cyclonus is only after you've helped save his tiny friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Four Fs

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing but more, good ol' self-indulgent Whirl/Cyclonus stuff with the potential for Cyclonus/Whirl/Tailgate.

Cyclonus exited the medibay. His mind still whirred with the activity inside but he waved it off, welcoming the change of scenery and stepping up to a rail overlooking the cargo hold, bracing his weight against it with his hands.

He'd practically made the medical ward his new hab suite after Tailgate had been transferred into palliative care, and then, miraculously, removed. He could still hear the medical scanners, the clank and chime of tools, and Ratchet reprimanding a patient for being too active. He reached up to scratch at the base of his knew horn, the weld marks still visible and itchy. He tensed at the sound of approaching footsteps, but forced himself to relax. The battle on Luna 1 had left him like a coiled spring.

The footsteps stopped beside him and he jerked at a playful bump to his wing. Whirl's helm drifted into his peripheral.

"Hey," Whirl said. "Nice horn."

Cyclonus grunted. Whirl sidled up to the spot beside him, clamping his claws around the rail to mirror his stance. Cyclonus spared him a quick once-over. Whirl had been repaired to his former glory, his blue paint new and glossy and he moved confidently, making no indication that he had been a mere exo-skeleton beforehand.

Whirl tilted his head, catching his eye. "You got your face fixed up, too."

Cyclonus didn't prickle at the comment, much to his own surprise. He knew Whirl would put two and two together. He was far from stupid, much as some preferred to believe.

"Gosh, can't take a compliment, can ya?" Whirl said. "A 'thank you' woulda been sufficient."

"I thought the point of compliments was not to get a 'thank you', but to know that your comment goes appreciated by the other party," Cyclonus said.

"Huh." Whirl turned his back to the rail and set his hip against it, his upper half facing Cyclonus, and gestured to him with the closest claw. "You seem to know a lot about compliments for someone who doesn't seem to like 'em."

"And you understandably know little about them for someone who rarely receives them," Cyclonus said, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"Oo, it stings," Whirl said, but not unkindly. He withdrew his gaze. A comfortable silence passed before he leaned over. "So I take it short and panicky is doin' alright?"

Cyclonus nodded once. "He's awake now. He told me to say hello."

Whirl's optic dilated. "To me?"

"To everyone," Cyclonus corrected.

"You just gotta suck the fun out of everything," Whirl complained. "Look, I'm not one to give compliments or ask how the wee babby is doing, but here I am, doing that. Aren't you supposed to encourage this kind of behaviour? Positive reinforcement?"

Cyclonus pursed his lips. Whirl synthesized an exaggerated sigh. "Would you prefer it if I insulted you? Would that lighten the mood?"

"That would be more familiar," Cyclonus said.

"Alright then." Whirl straightened and cleared his vocalizer, assuming a proud position and pounding a claw to his chest. "I, Whirl, hereby dub you, horn-head, the most rigid, cold, uptight, sour, uncool, totally fucking rude--"

"Whirl," Cyclonus said.

"--tive mech I've ever met," Whirl finished. He relaxed out of his pose. "You know what you need? You need a spar, six beers, and a good, hard frag."

Cyclonus sniffed. Normally he'd reject the idea at face value, but he conjured up the taste of his favourite drink, of a song in his chest, and the luxuries of not treating every day like it was a battle, whether within himself or with the world around him.

He shifted his weight in thought. Stay quiet too long and Whirl would move on to something new or leave, which Cyclonus usually welcomed, but not today. He owed Whirl Tailgate's survival, if nothing else, and that merited his attention. Just because he no longer wanted to waste the energy killing him when he least expected it didn't mean he had to like him, though.

"I don't suppose you know any volunteers?" he asked.

Whirl fell silent. The lack of a comeback prompted Cyclonus to turn and face him. Whirl stood closer than he'd realized, and he had to tilt his head back to meet his gaze. Whirl stared at him with what others might have dubbed his default, probing stare, but Cyclonus recognized a certain intensity to it that hadn't been there before.

Then it clicked. "You?"

Whirl glanced away for a beat, then back. "Me? Yeah, sure, why not?"

Cyclonus worried himself when the first through to his mind wasn't 'no.' It wasn't even the second thought to come. Hell, after a few seconds he realized that the word 'no' wasn't anywhere within reach inside his processor. His eyes glossed over Whirl again, tall and proud, but a mess in more ways than one; someone who, despite being threatened, had offered Cyclonus an idea that had saved the life of someone important to him.

He cursed inwardly at himself.

"Don't leave me hangin' here, Cyc-Cyc," Whirl said, lowering his voice. He rested his claws on his hips and tipped his helm closer. "Stress relief? Fight and frag buddy? I've gotcha covered. What's it gunna be?"

To the pits with it. "Where?"

Whirl's optic flickered into what Cyclonus assumed to be a smile. He slid his claws from his own hips to caress up Cyclonus'. "Here?" He dropped his head next to Cyclonus' horns, nudging the side of his head. "Make the doctors jealous they're not you?"

"Certainly not." Cyclonus reached for Whirl's pincers, but thought better of it and gripped his forearms instead. He stepped back and folded the arm over in his hands, thumbs tracing along the rotors. "Drinks first."

Whirl stepped back and saluted. "Aye aye." He waved for Cyclonus to follow and he fell into step beside him, Whirl watching his face as they marched in silence.

"What is it?" Cyclonus asked.

"Nothin'," Whirl said. "Are you gunna tell me somethin' personal this time? I feel kinda let down, y'know. Cheated. You got to know why I don't get my claws fixed but I get zilch."

"I thought not killing you was payment enough," Cyclonus said. "If you were able to discern it for yourself, what point is there in sharing something else?"

"Because we're  _cool_  now."


End file.
